They say in yellow lane, clouds sail in streaks of silver, rarely does rain kiss the ground and no thunder would linger. Window panes and brick walls shine in golden light, bystanders seem as if they were holding sunlight. I wanted to capture that sight in a frame,One image I wanted to come by with my name. 2 miles I have walked, this was it, I could tell, but faster than my breath, in heavy stream, rain fell. 3 feet from where I stood the sun didn’t cease to shine. The rain had a border, a somewhat marginal line. Pacing a few steps I caught sight of somebody; by the rain, in the parting sun, a woman stood lonely. It wasn’t the photograph I had in mind, but the image I’ve captured was a remarkable find. She looked at me as if she had something to say, so…